


Open Up The Stars

by Kisnau



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Freeform, Gen, Multi, Other, day and night au, inspired by beanpot's sun and moon au on tumblr, sun and moon au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-13
Packaged: 2018-09-16 14:31:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9276152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kisnau/pseuds/Kisnau
Summary: The Sun and Moon were old friends. This is not a story of the Sun and Moon, equal entities and ancient neighbors.This is a story of their children, Night and Day.Night never saw the beauty Day wrought, and Day never beheld the blanket Night cast over the sleeping world. They only ever glimpsed each other at Dusk and Dawn, to hand over the Celestial Robe and change the Sky. At Day's touch, daylight would stream into the fabric, chasing away the stars and darkness. At Night's touch, the opposite would occur.Their fated roles would have simply carried them off into eternity, had something not changed.Had the stars not said something.





	1. Dawn and Dusk

**Author's Note:**

> OK... here we go. Didn't expect to get sucked into writing this AU, but, well - here we are. Haha.  
> (Updates may be sporadic, but I have some time this week so you might get lucky!)  
> Just a little world that I had to get out of my brain. Probably multi-chapter, but short chapters.  
> Enjoy, my lovelies~! :3  
> 

                 The universe was new. The Sun was strong and proud, the Moon sweet and kind. The Moon had existed in the time before light, but had been sleeping. The Sun’s existence was a sudden change, and now light revealed the world Moon had resided beside, but never seen. So, at the first Dawn, Day was born. He was yet a small creature, with silver hair like starlight and eyes the color of a blue-hot flame. As time passed and the hours shifted, however, Day began to become sleepy, being only a babe.

                The bright blue robe Sun had wrapped Day in began to flicker, and when the first hint of Dusk crept over the world, Night was born. The familiar darkness Moon remembered was upon them, and with Night in her arms, Moon approached Sun and Day. A tiny hand brushed Day’s robe, a small fist grabbing onto it. The effect was immediate. The Sky began to change, darkening quickly just as a field of stars spread over the robe, chasing away the bright blue and replacing it with a deep black. Shocked at the transition in the Sky, Moon pulled reflexively away just as Sun did, but Night’s baby fist on the robe pulled it from around Day, and it became his.

                The darkness was not complete, however, for the pinpricks of other stars could be seen in the blackness, replacing the wisps of clouds seen on Day’s robe. Moon’s symbol was now visible on the back, just where Sun’s symbol had been when it had been Day’s robe. The accents had changed, as well; Day’s robe was red inside, with an orange hem surrounding the bright blue, and Night’s was green inside, with a purple hem bordering the black.

                Moon laughed at this, delighted, and Day stared at Night as Dusk continued on, Sunset approaching, the change in the Sky echoed on the Robe. Just being born, Night was barely able to open his eyes, and by the time he did, Sunset had long passed and Dusk had finished. Day was now asleep in Sun’s arms, the Celestial Robe – as it came to be called later – completely black, completely claimed for Night. Moon wrapped Night in this, and sent a smile to Sun. There would be something that had only existed once, that would come again in a few hours.

                Dawn, and Sunrise. They would meet again then, and continue the cycle that must take shape.

                The eons pass, and Sun and Moon age. Their children do, as well. Others come, populating the world, watching over the humans beginning to eke out a living beneath them. The cycle of Day and Night is tantamount in allowing them to rest, to grow food, to hunt and to bond.

                Sunset and Sunrise are always in the middle of these transition times. If Dusk is an hour long, Sunset comes a half-hour in. Day becomes sleepier and sleepier until Dusk completes, and he is carried tenderly home by Sun. If Dawn is a half-hour long, Sunrise comes after only fifteen minutes. At the end of Dawn, Night is fast asleep, bundled up and taken home by Moon.

                In the beginning, Day and Night are too little to do more than fall asleep or wake up, as it happens to them. When they are small, it is only a few minutes of Dusk or Dawn. Sunrise means Day is wide awake at Sunrise, while Night is instantly asleep. Sunset means Day is sound asleep by Sunset, while Night is the opposite. As they grow older, Day’s stubborn nature begins to come out. He spends his days enjoying watching the humans, but they are not like him. The Clouds are good companions, close in the air with him watching below, but they are not his equals. Sun is his father, and of course Day knows of Moon and Night, but the latter is only a hazy impression of dark hair and darker eyes that sparkle like the stars on the Celestial Robe that Day catches glimpses of before falling asleep. Wanting to witness the full beauty of the Sky changing, and to satisfy his curiosity of Night, whom he knows but knows not, Day tries hard to begin to stay awake past Sunset.

                It is not impossible; after all, Sun’s light takes time to leave the world and Day has noticed that as he and Night grow older, the time for Dusk and Dawn lengthens.

                This day, as Dusk approaches, Sun and Day head for the Throne at the Crown of the World to exchange the Celestial Robe, and bring in another night. Day is pulling Sun’s hand to hurry along, although they are far too early for Moon and Night to be arriving yet. Moon makes a point to be punctual, and she is always at the Throne by Sunset, but they do not tend to arrive early. Why should they? Night will be asleep until at least Sunset, as he is still younger than Day. Moon seems surprised to see Sun and Day looking as though they have waited a while, but she sends them a smile nonetheless.

                “My, you are early! Is it a special day?” She asks this of Day kindly, who is already sitting on the two-seated Throne. He beams up at her.

                “I wanted to see Night before I went to sleep! I’m going to start staying up until the end of Dusk from now on! So we can be friends!” Moon looks surprised, but her expression melts into one of fondness, as she raises a hand to set gently on Day’s silver head.

                “I think that’s a lovely idea, but are you sure?” She glances at Sun, who grunts noncommittally, arms folded as he shrugs. “Won’t it be hard for you to stay up?” Day puffs up his chest, the golden bangles around his wrists jingling as he gestures enthusiastically.

                “I’ll do it! Night needs a friend that’s like him!” Moon smiles at him again, and as Sunset approaches – they are still young, so it is still quick – she sits down with Night in her lap beside Day, on the Throne.

                They wait, Day leaning forward on his hands intently, to stare at Night right up until Sunset happens. Immediately after it hits, Day feels the familiar drag of exhaustion that comes with his time passing, but he stubbornly wills past it, looking for any sign that Night is waking. After what feels like a very long time to a rapidly-tiring child, Night’s fingers twitch, and, excited, Day blurts out the first thing to come to mind, shoving the Robe at Night so it can start to change.

                “Night! I stayed up to talk to you! Let’s be friends!” Night jumps, blinking at being awakened so rudely and Moon laughs musically at his surprise. Day grins as wide, wide dark eyes snap up to him from where Night is cradled in Moon’s lap. The blackness of the darkening Robe bleeds over the Sky and as Dusk stretches on, Night is still only staring at him. By contrast, Day is finding it increasingly hard to stay awake. Day rubs at his eyes, whining softly, voice accusing.

                “You don’t want to? But I stayed up for you…” He pouts, and there’s a small blush on Night’s face but Day doesn’t even see it. Dusk is over and Day has fallen back into Sun’s waiting arms, sound asleep. Day is gathered up to be taken home, and Sun nods at Moon.

                “He is a stubborn one.” Sun frowns down at Night, and Night stiffens and makes a small noise of fear, eyes wide, before he hides in Moon’s neck. She smooths a hand down Night’s back, rubbing gently. Night’s fingers are tightly clutching the Robe, which has fully shifted with his claim. Sun sighs.

                “Day is a willful child, but he means well. I do not know how he got the idea in his head, but what kind of friendship would they have?” Moon hums in thought, and Night is silently listening. He is still so young that Sun and Moon likely think he is not, though, and thus will not remember this conversation.

                “I think it’s a sweet idea. Why not let them try?” Sun scoffs at her, and shakes his head.

                “It’s a waste of time. Day has enough responsibilities and things to play with when he is awake. What use is a friend he can only see for a few minutes, every day? He should stick to those who are awake when he is. I’m sorry for the trouble.” Sun bows his head respectfully, and Moon smiles softly in return. She thinks otherwise, but Sun is Day’s father and she will not interfere with what he thinks is right for his child. Sun departs with Day, and Moon lets Night slip off her lap. She helps him clip the Robe around his neck, then stands, takes him by the hand and walks off with him to show him the duties of this time.

                They are both learning. One day, Sun and Moon will not have to accompany them to ensure day and night transition successfully. They will not have to show Day and Night what they must do while the Sky is theirs. Their children will know their duties, and perhaps then, when they have grown enough to be independent, they will be able to make their own choices.

                “Can I be friends with him, ‘kaasan?” Moon squeezes Night’s hand, and glances down at him with a loving, supportive smile.

                “Perhaps one day. For now, you need to learn what the world needs from you.” Night nods.

                The next morning, Dawn begins and Sun approaches from the East, carrying Day. Moon and Night are already waiting at the Throne at the Crown of the World. Night is sitting atop it on the Western side, and Sun sets Day down on the stone seat on the Eastern side. Sun stays close, as Day is still asleep and leaning heavily on Sun for support. Night takes off the Robe as Sunrise approaches, biting his lip and holding the Robe out in the space between them on the two-seated Throne.

                Sunrise hits and Night is so tired he feels he will fall over, but Day is quicker to wake at Dawn than Night is at Dusk. Bright blue eyes pop open only a few moments after Sunrise and Day’s entire face lights up as he grabs the Robe, voice warm as he leans in.

                “Hi, Night! Good morning! Did you think about if you want to be friends?” Night’s not expecting to be so terribly anxious at the sudden demands, the full force of Day’s energy winding up hard for him to bear. Night’s heart catches in his throat and he bursts out crying, hopping off the Throne and running to Moon’s waiting arms. Day’s face is blank and shocked at the rejection, but there’s nothing he can do about it as Dawn passes and Night, now asleep, is hoisted into Moon’s arms, leaning against her shoulder. She offers Day an apologetic smile as she bows before turning to leave.

                The Robe has changed to bright blue in Day’s hands, but he doesn’t even look down at it.


	2. Meteors and Comets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi this AU was inspired by beanpot's Sun and Moon AU http://beanpots.tumblr.com/tagged/day-and-night-au
> 
> More of the same type of AU listed here: http://beanpots.tumblr.com/post/155744014433/day-and-night-au

                More eons pass. Day and Night are no longer children, have passed adolescence and crossed over into adulthood. The time has long passed for them needing Sun and Moon’s guidance to get to and from the Throne at the Crown of the World. They are old enough that Dawn and Dusk last long enough for them to get home without falling asleep on the way. Sunrise and Sunset is still the shift in energy, but since they are older, more experienced with what happens and are given more time, they are better-equipped to handle it.

                Day has not talked to Night since the morning Night rejected his friendship, so long ago. They see each other every Dawn and Dusk, but exchange no words. Day’s smile is amiable but distant as he hands over or takes the Robe, and Night cannot ever look him in the eye. They arrive and depart in silence.

                Night has never built up the courage to try to explain what happened, and thinks Day would never want to be his friend, anyway. They would have too little time together. What could Day possibly want from him? Night has nothing to offer but darkness and the precious few moments during the transition. It takes time to walk home, as well.

                Night has a friend who is a Meteor named Tapan Hin. He is full of life and lovely and shines almost as bright as what Night thinks Sun must be, during the day. Night asks him to describe the differences between day and night. Tapan Hin grins widely and tells Night stories of an entirely lit sky, the world below busy and always bustling, noisy and full of life.  Night also hears of rainbows, sunshowers and solar eclipses. It is hard to imagine that the still, dark world Night watches over can be the same place full of magic that Tapan Hin is describing.

                Night remembers Day, although it is fogged from time and from not being entirely awake.

                Night remembers the smile Day gave him, that morning, bright and full of hope. It’s completely different from the smiles Day gives him, now. Night doesn’t know what he can do to fix the misunderstanding. It’s been so long, Day probably doesn’t even think about him at all anymore. Is there even a way to fix something that’s been broken for practically their entire lives? Night feels so stupid for crying, but he doesn’t handle pressure well. Living with the fact he screwed up with the first person to want to be his friend because of his own mental weakness is… hard. Tapan Hin tells Night it’s not his fault. He tells Night that night has its own beauty, and that beauty doesn’t have to be all shimmering light. Night hears him, but he doesn’t. He wants to shine, too.

                Night has something Day doesn’t, after all, and that is stars. He starts to play with the stars. Night draws complicated pieces of art with the pinpricks of light overhead, telling of other fair and distant suns. He rearranges them in the sky while it is his own, and is always satisfied to find them in the same positions after Dusk, every night. But Day can never see the other stars, as Sun’s light is too bright during the day. The humans do, though. Tapan Hin tells him the star-playing is beautiful, is so unique, is so _Night_ that everyone can’t help but take notice of how lovely it is.

                But Day can’t see it. Night feels the eyes of all the humans starting to lie awake at night just to watch the stars move overhead, but it doesn’t mean anything if Day can’t see it. If Day doesn’t know it’s there, that Night is doing this for him, to apologize… How can it mean anything?

* * *

                A Comet sees the star-playing, when he passes close to Earth one night. His name is Moskva, and he usually circles around Earth during the day, but he’d been running late and swept by well past Dusk. It’s actually a bit relieving, not having Day’s brightness punching him in the face as soon as he gets within range. Moskva has never seen Night before, but he’s intrigued when he catches sight of him, weaving stars into new configurations with his fingertips, dark eyes sparkling just like the sky above him.

                Moskva wonders why Day never mentions him, and resolves to ask him about it the next day.

                Day stares at him as though thoroughly surprised, then smiles a little and laughs it off as a friendly competition between two skies. He’s known Night since the first Dusk after his first Dawn, Day says to Moskva. It’s the first time Night has played with the Sky, like Day does for rainbows and sunshowers. Solar eclipses are a matter between Sun and Moon, although sometimes in the twilight of those events he swears he can see Night, fuzzy around the edges and looking like he’d just been stirred from a sound sleep.

                “Otets,” Day asks Sun one day, “Do you remember Moon and Night?” Sun grunts at him, eying him cautiously.

                “What about them?” Day smiles a little, unfazed by Sun’s grumpiness. “I was just wondering – have you heard about the stars? That Night’s been playing with them? Moskva says it’s pretty impressive.” Sun rolls his eyes, shakes his head.

                “I have better things to worry about than what Moon and Night get up to when I’m not around. Sounds like a waste of time. Hope Moon’s not letting him become lazy.” Sun grumbles and leaves, but Day isn’t quite sure that’s all there is to it. Dawn and Dusk are only getting longer as time stretches on, after all – maybe the stars had been meant for him? Day feels his face warm at the thought, and laughs to himself. Such a silly notion! Night had probably just gotten bored.

                Day’s smile fades as he thinks about how he sees Night, every Dawn at the same place. Night never looks at him, practically throws the Robe at him in his haste to give it to him, and always runs away afterwards. It’s just like when they were children, even though Dawn and Dusk are much longer, now. The clearest image Day has of Night is his back when he is leaving.

                Whether it’s clad in the Celestial Robe of Night at Dusk or just his dark blue tunic at Dawn, it’s always the same.

                Day wonders what Night remembers of him. He makes sure to smile at Night, even though Night never looks up; even though Night wants nothing to do with him. It makes Day curious and wistful, makes something strange stir in him. Day wants to know more, as Night’s always intrigued him, but what can he do to show that? Their last true interaction ended with Night in tears.

                Still, Day wishes he could see the stars when Night plays with them. It must be so beautiful.

* * *

                There’s something different about Day when they meet at the Throne at the Crown of the World, that Dusk. Both Day and Night have had enough eons under their belts to be able to ignore the bone-deep exhaustion that Dusk and Dawn, respectively, carry for them. The time has stretched just beyond a half-hour, now, and they have made a habit to both arrive within just a few minutes of each other, and Sunrise or Sunset’s peak.

                This Dusk, Day is sitting in his usual spot on the Western side of the Throne at the Crown of the World as Night approaches from the East. The Throne rotates with the world as the day and night cycle goes through. At Dawn, Day enters from the East. At Dusk, Day exits into the West. At Dawn, Night exits into the West. At Dusk, Night enters from the East. They always come to the Throne from opposite directions.

                Night is punctual, having spent eons perfecting the timing before Sunset – even as it continually changes, there are still patterns – so he does not need to burden Day with his presence more than absolutely necessary. When he gets close enough, Night drops his eyes and sits on the Eastern side of the Throne at the Crown of the World.

                Day shifts beside him. Night knows he can feel Sunset’s peak approaching; they both can. It does not affect them as intensely as when they were children, but it is something that will likely never disappear. Night tries to ignore the restless air of Day, this Dusk. Surely it’s not too much to ask that Day put up with him for a few moments more. Once Sunset has peaked, they can both head home, as they have always done; one to work, one to rest.

                Day speaks.

                “I heard about you playing with the stars. I wish I could see them. It sounds very beautiful.”

                There is a spike of anxiety in Night’s chest, at the praise, and he remains silent, trying to calm himself. Day continues after the pause stretches on a little too long, and Night very firmly does not look up. Night knows his panic must show in his eyes, if not the stiff line of his shoulders.

                “I know you don’t like me that much –” Day begins, and Night feels a shout in the back of his throat, because that’s just not true, but he can’t get it out. His hands clasp each other tightly in his lap, and Day must notice because he laughs, but it sounds forced, fake, nervous and… pained?

                “I know, I know! But hear me out. We never talk much, but I was wondering…  I mean, I know we’re different, but… since we’re the same, too… would you… want to start staying a little longer at the Throne, when the transition comes? I mean, we’re not kids anymore, and our homes aren’t that far away –” Night cuts him off by standing abruptly, grabbing the Robe from where it lies on Day’s lap and sprinting back home as fast as he can run.

                Night doesn’t see the heartbroken look on Day’s face that he leaves behind him.

* * *

                At Dawn, following that, Night notices that Day seems a lot quieter than usual. He’s not even forcing that awful smile, and he doesn’t say anything about their last meeting at Dusk. It’s back to normal – they never talk at these meetings, after all. But something seems wrong, even though Night can’t imagine what it would be. It’s easier to do what he’s done forever, and keep his eyes down after that initial first glance, handing over the Robe maybe a little less frenzied than he usually does.

                In fact, it’s been a little while and Night is still holding it out; Day hasn’t taken it. Night is staring at the fabric and it’s still as black and as patterned with the stars he’d played with last night; the Sky reflects the Robe and the Robe reflects the Sky, after all. Sunrise’s peak passes and Day still hasn’t touched the Robe. Night is about to say something, or just throw it at him and run away as usual, but something soft and round and wet drops onto the fabric, darkening it. Night just stares. A few more just like the first appear, and he has to look up.

                Day is looking at the Sky, crying, his face blank and serene except for the tears, which are falling freely.

                Night is aghast. He can only stare at Day, frozen, still holding out the Celestial Robe of Night because Day has yet to touch it. Dawn is stretching closer to its end with each passing second, and Day still hasn’t set the Sky to shifting by claiming the Robe as his own. What happens if Day doesn’t claim it before Dawn is over? That’s never happened before.

                Day’s voice breaks the spell.

                “You changed the stars. I can see them. I never noticed before, I was always looking at you. But I can tell they’re different.” Day’s face crumples into a smile, and Night feels something in his chest squeeze, painfully. “I can’t see the stars when Sun is out. They’re so pretty like this. I don’t want them to disappear. As soon as I touch it, they’ll –”

                Night doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he rushes forward and hugs Day, the Robe squished between them. Immediately, it starts to change color from black to bright blue and Day lets out a noise of protest and distress, but Night holds him tighter, blushing face hidden in Day’s taller shoulder.

                “I-I’ll make you a new one. Every night. S-So you can see them.” Day freezes, and Night’s heart is in his throat, he swallows thickly, and then –

                Day’s arms come up around him. They’re warm like the stars Day loves so much.

                “You’re so cold.” Day murmurs, unknowingly mirroring Night’s thoughts as he pulls him close. Dawn is almost over, and it’ll take some time to get home. Night makes a split-second decision.

                “M-Meet me here before Sunset starts! I mean! E-Earlier!” He’s communicating it badly, but Day must understand because Day’s whole body seems to release with a sigh, tension sapping out of him. Even then, Night hears a wet laugh, and feels something nuzzling into his hair.

                “Earlier.” Day affirms, his voice soft and affectionate, his fingers gentle on Night’s shoulders. “I’ll head here as soon as I wake up. OK?” Night just nods, and goes along limply as Day pushes him away slightly. There's just enough room between them, now, for Day to take the Robe and fasten it around his neck. Night quickly looks down at the orange hem of the bright blue Robe that falls gracefully around Day's knees. Night knows his face is just a ball of red, but a tender fingertip hooks under his chin and lifts his face up so now he’s looking at Day, who’s…

                Day is beaming, bright blue eyes fond and still glistening at the corners.

                “Wait for me here, Night. I really want to see your masterpiece.” Day leans forward and kisses Night’s forehead, and Night is sure he is just about to die from embarrassment, but Day’s hand on his shoulder is oddly steadying.

                Unable to manage words, Night just nods furiously and hastily rips himself away, sprinting back home at record speed.

                Moon is at home, as she always is past Sunrise, and she glances up as he enters. His flushed face makes her beam at him.

                “Ohh, Night! Did you finally make a friend?”


	3. Sunset and Sunrise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /I'm sorry I changed the name on you guys but there are so many stories out there for this AU now that I decided to take a risk and go with my one of my original gut feelings for the title please don't hate me uhuhuhuuuu titles for uncompleted stories ARE THE HARDEST THING TO SETTLE ON EVER OTL
> 
> //i love all of your comments so much i will always reply even if it takes me a while THANK YOU SO MUCH

                That day, while walking home, Day tries to think of what he can do to return the favor Night has given him. There are no stars for him to play with, and rainbows are easy, but Day wants to do something more. There’s a bright feeling in his chest that has nothing to do with Sun high overhead, and Day tries to think of all the things that happen during the day, that Night wouldn’t be able to see.

                He can’t think of any, of course. Day is always asleep at night, after all.

                Instead, he waits for his Comet friend, Moskva, to come by around midday and peppers him with questions about what else he had seen during the night. Moskva wrinkles his nose and sticks out his tongue, but Day’s persistent begging eventually gets him to relent.

                “It’s dark. Hard to explain.” Day nods.

                “Yes, yes, I know the Sky gets dark, I see the end of Dusk and the beginning of Dawn every day. But what other things are there?” Moskva frowns, tapping a finger over his chin as he thinks.

                “Well… Most flowers aren’t opened up. The trees look different, too. Many of the humans are asleep, but some are not, because you can see lights in their cities.” Day perks up, at that.

                “Lights?” Moskva nods, just realizing Day would have never seen such a thing.

                “They’re like small captured suns, that humans turn on and off at will. It gives them a personal bubble of daylight at night.” Day has to laugh aloud, at the mere concept, and Moskva stares at him.

                “How strange! Is there anything else?” Moskva squints at him, probably for being weird, and sighs.

                “The deserts are cold instead of hot. Some animals only come out at night. There are no butterflies or birds out at night.” Day stops him there, gasping.

                “You mean Night has never heard a bird’s song?” Moskva snorts.

                “Why would he? All the birds start singing after Dawn has passed, and are already roosted by the time Dusk starts.” Day pouts at this.

                “That’s awful!” Day withdraws into himself, then, looking pensive. Moskva rolls his eyes, taking his leave. He’s got other worlds to visit besides this one, after all.

                For the rest of the day, Day thinks about what he can do in return for Night’s gift of the stars. He considers taking a bird with him at Dusk, but no – that won’t work. It’ll be too dark for it to want to sing, then. Maybe at Dawn? But the day is passing quickly, and the only thing Day can turn to now is making a special rainbow, just at Dusk. It hits him, suddenly, that Night said to be there earlier – Night will be there, right at the start of Dusk! Or close, Day thinks, and the smile that stretches across his face is wide and heartfelt. He’s never felt like this, before; he can’t wait for Dusk to come.

                Day spends the rest of his time twirling the clouds in his fingers, drawing silly pictures in the Sky that mirror on his Robe and pass just as easily as a breath of wind. They aren’t like the stars, after all, and won’t stay in one place for long. Finally, Sun’s descent towards the horizon starts to herald Dusk, and Day is up and running to the Throne at the Crown of the World, breaths fast and excited as he hurries.

                Night will be there! They’ll have time to talk! He doesn’t have anything to give Night, though…

                That thought slows his steps, makes Day unsure. He has to find something! But what? What can he give that won’t fade away as Dusk passes? The stars don’t fade, he knows, just come out brighter at night, but Day wants to give something more… permanent. His eyes flit around, searching as he continues walking towards the Throne. There are fireflies all around him, and they sort of remind him of stars, but living things won’t last as long as Day and Night do. Day bites his lip as the Throne comes into sight as he approaches from the West.

                Night is not there, yet. Day still has some time to think, he says to himself as he sits on the Western side of the stone seat. Dusk passes, Sunset’s peak approaching, and Night is still not there. Day feels his hopes crashing, and grows tired of the Sky reflecting back perfect, bright blue. Sunset and Sunrise are times that he and Night feel, after all – there is no indicated change in the Sky until they exchange the Robe. This sets Day’s mind to thinking, and he slowly starts to grin as an idea takes shape.

                Sunset's peak is almost upon him, when Day hears panting breaths and furious steps echo from the Eastern side of the Throne. He turns, and his expression brightens as he spots Night, looking frazzled and sleepy in his dark blue tunic that flutters in the wind as Night sprints towards him.

                “Night!” Night stumbles to a stop before Day, who has stood to meet him. Night is bowed over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath, back heaving with exertion.

                “S-Sorry! I overslept –” Day laughs, but is hasty in wanting to try his idea. He reaches out to grab Night by the shoulders and push him down onto the Eastern seat. Sunset’s peak is close, but Night still made it. Day’s hands are now on the Robe, unclasping it from around himself and holding it in front. Still seated, Night raises his hands to take it from Day, fully; as they have always done. But Day shakes his head, sitting down in the Western seat, facing Night and letting the Robe fold over their laps. He grins at Night’s confusion, grabs Night’s hands in his and pushes them down onto the Robe.

                Day doesn’t know what will happen, but it will undoubtedly be exciting!

                At first it is, but not in the way he expected. Night splutters, face turning red and eyes averting as he tries to wriggle out of Day’s hold. But Day’s attention is soon taken by the telltale effect rippling out on the Robe from their joined hands – it is no longer black or bright blue, but a mix of marvelous colors Day hadn’t even known could exist in the Sky. Pleased at the beauty and at his hunch being right, Day tips his head back to watch the Sky start to mirror the changes on the Robe. He interrupts Night’s anxious fretting with a single word, breathless and reverent, squeezing Night’s hands in his.

                “Look!”

                It’s something Day has never seen, before. There are soft, muted oranges and reds, yellows and purples streaking across the clouds by the horizon, changing the entirety of the Sky as Sun dips beneath it during Sunset’s peak. But even after Sun is gone, the effects of light on the clouds linger, hovering magnificently. Day is faintly aware of Night’s hands slowly shifting, cold fingers moving between his, clasping hesitantly. Day looks down from the Sky and beams happily at Night, whose face is still flushed with pink as he watches the changes overhead.

                “I wanted to give you something just as beautiful as the stars, but this is all I could think of, and I wasn’t even sure it would work!” Day says, and Night blinks, face still aimed upward, then shyly shifts his gaze down to him. The little smile on Night’s face is gorgeous to behold, his dark eyes shining, and Day feels something in his chest skip and stutter. Day feels his cheeks warm, and tries to laugh it off, ignoring the uneasy tingle in the pit of his stomach. Day feels out of his depth.

                “Do you like it?” Day asks, and Night nods mutely, cold fingers shifting against Day’s and Day finds himself looking down at them, at the strange pattern in the Robe that’s reflected in the Sky from both of them touching it at the same time. They remain sitting like that as Dusk continues on, and only when its end approaches does Day start to withdraw. It’s strange how reluctant Day is to pull his hands away, even when Night lets him go without a fight. Night clasps the Robe around his neck, and Day can’t help but crane his neck back to watch the Sky again, holding his breath as the colors of Sunset – new, striking, and something Day will endeavor to recreate every Dusk, if such beauty is his reward – fade into blackness and starlight.

                But the stars are on their own level of breathtaking, and Day quickly looks back to Night, who is watching him hesitantly, but tries another little smile once Day’s attention settles on him. Exhaustion pulling at him – Dusk is nearly over, after all – Day returns the smile and moves forward to cup Night’s face, kissing his forehead tenderly.

                “I can’t wait to see what you make in the stars for me.” Day moves slightly, pressing lips to Night’s hair and then laughing gently as he feels the heat emanating from Night’s face spike. Day wants to hug Night, to be honest, but doesn’t think the humans would appreciate a repeat of Sunset after the Sky has just shifted to night. Day needs to go; Sun will be waiting and possibly worried if he doesn’t return soon and honestly Day would rather not pass out on the road before he gets home.

                Night’s face looks vulnerable as Day pulls away, and that gives him pause. Day’s hands are still cupping Night’s burning cheeks, and Day gives him a very kind smile, tired as he is.

                “I won’t sleep in tomorrow morning, so don’t be late this time!” Day chirps, and Night sputters in embarrassment as Day laughs at him, releasing his face and running off into the West, towards home.

                Day tries to ignore the tears at the corners of his eyes, as he runs.

                He doesn’t want to leave Night.

                Is that all right?

* * *

                The following morning, Day is surprised by Sun waking him just before Dawn begins. Sun’s face is straight and somber, but insistent, and Day struggles to shake off the lingering effects of sleep.

                “You had best be going. I believe someone is waiting for you.” Day’s heart leaps into his throat – how did Sun know? Day glances up at Sun, worried he’ll be chastised. Sun watches this, and sighs, putting a hand on Sun’s silver head.

                “Moon and I do talk while you children sleep, you know. Your friends are your friends, Day. You are old enough to make your own choices. So long as you do your duties, your friendships may remain as impractical as you wish.” Sun grunts this, and Day feels his eyes welling up. He springs up to hug Sun, thanking him in a fervent whisper before rushing out the door, lilac tunic billowing in the breeze.

                There’s excitement pulsing in his chest, and Day stares at the Sky the whole way to the Throne at the Crown of the World, drinking in the complicated designs of the stars overhead. They’re completely different from last night, and Day’s heart swells with the knowledge that Night did all of that, just for him. The night sky isn’t something he ever bothered to notice, before, because it was always the same. Day hadn’t known the stars could be changed, after all. But now, it makes something ring in his heart to know that Night is thinking of him while they are apart. Yes, Night has his own duties and is surely not playing with the stars for every moment, but it is enough moments that Day cannot handle the feeling trying to burst from his chest. It feels like light, it feels like a miniature sun has taken up residence and the rays are leaking out from every direction. Day feels as though he is glowing, and as he approaches the Throne at the Crown of the World, Night slowly stands, looking regal in his Celestial Robe of Night. Night is waving hesitantly and Day lets out a shout of greeting, tackling Night to the ground in his haste.

                “Good morning!” The Robe is pinned to the dirt, Night is staring up at him, stunned, and Day can only grin, feeling as though light is streaming from his very smile. Slowly, Night’s cheeks flush pink and he looks away, gently pushing Day off him and they stand. Day’s jumping on the balls of his feet with impatience, and he starts babbling right away.

                “I saw the stars this morning, they were so beautiful, Night! I don’t know how you can think of so many designs, they’re just stunning and gorgeous and I love them so much – ” Night fiddles with his fingers, bashfully, but doesn’t try to interrupt Day’s rambling. Instead, Night unclasps the Robe from around his neck, and silently sits in the Western seat on the Throne, glancing back at Day uncertainly. It clicks after a moment, and Day gasps, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to take the Eastern seat, eyes fastened on Night as Night lays the Robe between them – just like last night.

                “Do you think it will work at Dawn, too?” Day asks, hushed with excitement and Night nods curtly, face flushed but determined as he finally meets Day’s eyes with his own.

                “I think so.” Night extends two shaking hands over the Robe, palms up, and Day’s bouncing energy softens as he meets Night halfway, settling his hands gently over those palms and pushing down, so they touch the Robe. They smile at each other, sweetly, then glance up at the Sky to see if it changes.

                It does, and it's just as beautiful as last night. Instead of colors streaking over the clouds, however, the changes are focused around Sun. It is as though Sunset's muted colors had been smeared into the Sky with pastels, and Sunrise was more a blob of rich, sharply-defined oils around the coming light. It is indescribable, as a moment of twilight comes when Day cannot tell the difference between Sunrise now and Sunset last night, but it passes quickly as the Sky continues to lighten. Day inhales sharply as the warm, brilliant colors of red and orange start to reach over the Sky, hands tightening reflexively. After a moment, Night wiggles his fingers between Day’s, shyly, and Day has to laugh a little, eyes tearing away from the Sky to watch Night, instead.

                But Night is staring at their hands, not the Sky, and Day feels something catch in his throat at the soft, contented expression on Night’s face. He squeezes Night’s fingers, swallowing as Night peers up at him, dark eyes sparkling like his beloved stars. Day feels his face catch on fire, and tries to laugh it off, but, unexpectedly, one of Night’s hands leaves his to cup Day’s cheek. Day’s laughter dies as his eyes widen in shock, but Night’s expression is set and firm, despite dots of pink appearing high on his cheeks.

                “Thank you.” Night says, full of conviction, his eyes earnest despite his quiet tone. Day can’t figure out how to respond to that, so he just settles for putting his free hand over the one on his cheek and sighing into a smile as his eyes close, leaning into Night's palm.

                Getting to know Night like this is just as dazzling as the changing Sky above them.


	4. Sun and Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, it's been a little while! Been working a lot, lately (and I work from tonight straight until Sunday, so probably not much for a little while, again), but Ch5 is over 2,000 words now so I feel like I can post this, really quick, before I continue to write for a bit before I have to get ready for work!
> 
> I love all of you, and thank you so much for taking the time to read this little AU! I hope it won't disappoint... :3~

                The walk home, that Dusk, feels longer and heavier than it should be. Day watches the Sky, knows his time for staying awake is running out, but can’t help but wish he could see the full beauty of Night’s Sky – at midnight. Moskva has told him about humans’ ability to express creatively, and sometimes the Sky finds its way in there, but humans are so limited in what they are able to use.

                Day doesn’t want a picture, doesn’t want a painting. Neither could capture the full breadth and width of the Sky overhead, and he doesn’t want anything less than Night’s full masterpiece laid out before his eyes.

                His chest feels tighter, the further he gets away from the Throne at the Crown of the World and Day doesn’t know how to fix it. Day’s hand is over the feeling in his chest, atop the lilac tunic he always wears; the light he’s started to feel, lately, is still there.

                Time passes, and nothing changes. Day and Night have had eons to know each other, and creating a new phase in the Sky after so long is enough for them both right now. It’s enough, Day tells himself, that he is learning to map out the feel of Night’s fingers as they curl against his, it’s enough that Night still flushes with pleasure at seeing him, it’s enough that Day can talk to Night every day without feeling like he’s annoying him and it’s enough when Night starts to talk back. His voice is soft and quiet, but magnetic in a way that makes Day immediately forget whatever he’d been saying in the interest of focusing solely on what Night is trying to express.

                It had been so many billions of years – in human terms – that Night said nothing, so Day cannot help but feel blessed to even just hear his voice. Their hands are their anchor points, and ever since the birth of the beautiful transition in the Sky at Dusk and Dawn they have not missed a single one. Moskva tells Day that the humans have taken notice, have started to try to reproduce the effects they are now calling Sunset and Sunrise in their art, but Day honestly couldn’t care less. Those times are for Day and Night, only, but if the humans find beauty in them he will not begrudge them that, will not reprimand them for celebrating the masterpieces he and Night make together.

                Night still spins the stars for him. Every morning when he wakes, Day stares at the Sky above and traces all the differences with his eyes. Night has started writing words in the ancient language of the Sky that only he and Day understand, arrangements and other swirls of stars clustered together. When Day finds Night at the Throne, he sometimes waits to take Night’s hands and share the Robe, asking after some of them, and Night blushes and explains. This one is a bear, that one a flying horse, this other one a hunter. Day is constantly and incredibly touched at each of these; the stars are Night’s expression, are Night’s thoughts when Day is not with him. It tells Day that Night’s thoughts are full of him each and every night, and the light in Day’s chest grows. Day plays with the clouds every day, spinning beautiful things he knows Night will never see, but he can do nothing else. Moskva tells him the humans notice these, as well, and Day takes some small consolation in that his efforts are at least seen by someone.

* * *

                 There is a day that comes, finally, when Sun confronts him at Dawn, just before Day races out the door to head for the Throne. Dusk and Dawn are much longer, now; approaching an hour’s time. It is a hand on his shoulder, stopping him gently, and Day whips his head around to blink at him, curious. Sun has aged in the way Day himself has aged; in the way Moon and Night have aged. Day and Night are no longer barely into adulthood, as they had been when they had just created Sunset and Sunrise reflected in the Sky. Now, they are wiser and more mature, although it in no way affects the way they still react to each other.

                Sun’s face is somber.

                “Day, the time has come for you to make your own home.” Day stares at Sun, unsure he has heard right. Sun gives him a tight, grief-stricken smile as his other hand comes to rest on Day’s other shoulder, turning his son to him. “Listen to me. It is not my choice. The Sky is demanding it, the stars are calling. You can no longer stay here. You need to find your own place in the world.” Day feels tears spring to his eyes – how can they not? He has lived in Sun’s house for his entire existence, cannot imagine calling anywhere else home.

                “Why do you say this, otets?!” Day shouts, voice full of pain, and Sun’s eyes take the emotional hit as Day throws his arms off him. Day turns and runs, Sun’s voice echoing behind him; not angry, just full of despair and desperate concern.

                “This house will not be here if you return! Find your place, syn! Shine brightly!”

                Day tries to tune him out, tries to use the view of the stars overhead to calm himself, but they are blurred and he cannot see any of Night’s great work. Being robbed of this comfort, as well, makes Day cry harder and he is a horrible mess by the time he reaches the Throne at the Crown of the World. Night, wonderful Night, is waiting for him as he always is, standing before the Western seat of the Throne and the Robe already unclasped and waiting in Night’s hands. Night’s eyes widen once he can discern Day’s face, but, in no state to register this, Day doesn’t even slow down, just throws himself at him.

                The Robe tumbles onto the Throne, forgotten, as Day clutches Night to his chest, burying his face in Night’s hair, sobbing brokenly. There is a moment where Night is tense, but it soon melts away as soothingly cold hands smooth up Day’s back, one wrapping securely around Day’s waist as the other cups the back of his neck. The heat of Day’s distress is true and awful, and each of Night’s cold fingers are a small blessing. Night says nothing, simply holds him.

                As Day’s sobs abate, Night hesitantly moves his hand up from Day’s neck and into his hair, fingers splaying against silver.

                “What happened?” Night’s beloved voice is soft and low, and it makes Day clutch that much harder to him. Sunset’s peak is a ways off, yet, so there is no rush to move, but the truth spills out of Day’s throat anyway, voice rough from crying.

                “Sun said I must leave. That his house will no longer be there for me. I do not understand.” Night pauses, at this, fingers going still in Day’s hair for a moment before they resume their petting.

                “Where will you stay, to sleep?” Day cries a laugh, shaking his head and ducking to hide his face in Night’s shoulder.

                “I do not know.” Day feels the heat of Night’s blushing neck warm his cheek, but Night does not push him away and neither of them mention it. Day’s arms are still wrapped around Night’s shoulders, his own fingers grasping his elbows, the position clinging and pathetic; Night does not mention that, either. A cool hand cards slowly up through Day’s silver hair and back down, the motion repetitive.

                They stay like that until Sunrise’s peak is a mere minute away, and only then does Night move to sit on the Western seat of the Throne. Day does not let go, though, only moves to sit beside him. Night allows Day to cling even as Night’s hands necessarily retreat, gathering up the Robe and wrapping it around Day’s back. The by-now-familiar colors of Sunrise start to leak into the fabric, by way of Night hugging Day to him, hands fisted in the back of the changing Robe.

                They sit in silence for the rest of Dawn, Night’s hands only dropping near the end of it, from exhaustion. Night does not want to leave Day, especially since he does not know where Day will go once Dusk is over, that evening. But he must; Moon will be expecting him. Day’s eyes, when Night can see them as he pulls away, are distant and unfocused, aimed somewhere near Night’s navel. Night feels a pang in his chest, and cups one of Day’s cheeks with his hand, trying with all his might not to let his sadness infect the smile he gives him. Day’s dead-looking gaze lifts to Night’s face, slowly, two more tears slipping down his cheeks unbidden as he knows Night must leave him, now.

                There is nothing for it. Night leans forward to kiss one tear away, the other rubbed into nonexistence by his thumb moving over Day’s cheek. Day, exhausted as he is, cannot even find the energy to respond to him in any way; Day simply leans into Night’s kiss, gladly taking the affection, the flutter of his eyelashes telling Night that Day’s eyes have closed. Night feels his chest ache.

                “I will be back for you. Be strong like I know you are.” One of Day’s hands shoots out to grab Night’s hand still in his lap, and Night gives it a squeeze before setting it gently in Day’s lap and taking his leave.

                It takes an extraordinary amount of effort for Night not to look back at Day, still sitting alone on the Throne at the Crown of the World.

* * *

                Moon greets Night with a smile that he returns reflexively, but doesn’t feel. If Moon notices anything amiss, she doesn’t say so, just bids him good night with her usual cheerful lilt.

                Night wakes at Dusk, wakes with the same thought in his mind that Day is likely still sitting at the Throne at the Crown of the World, with nowhere else to go. He hastens to get ready, not wanting to leave Day alone for more than strictly necessary, but Moon puts a gentle hand on his arm as Night turns to the door, stopping him. Night looks at her, and her eyes are sad.

                She doesn’t need to say anything, as Night can see the lines between what is happening, just like the lines between the stars that form his constellations. Moon smiles at him, soft but proud, and moves to put her hand atop his head, like when he was a child and did something especially well. Moon still says what she needs to say; it needs to be spoken, and Night needs to hear it.

                “You cannot come back here anymore, mus’ko. I will explain this to you if you would give me some of your precious Dusk, this evening.” Night nods, his jaw setting. Day will have to wait a little longer.

                Just a little longer, and then not anymore.

* * *

                Day notices, dully, that Night is late to come to Dusk, that evening. He is sitting with his knees drawn to his chest, arms hugging them as Day stares at the ground, tired of staring at Sun all day. It is nearly at the halfway mark of Sunset, almost a half-hour gone by since the part of Day’s being that feels the peak approaching started ticking. He did not need to sit here the whole day, no, but Day did not feel up to cavorting as he usually did. He did not spin spirals in the clouds in the Sky, only stared up at Sun as his father journeyed overhead. Sun seems different, today, and out of sheer curiosity around noon Day had left the Throne, briefly, to see if Sun’s house had truly disappeared.

                There was a mountain where it had once been. Day remembers that Sun had told him it wasn’t his choice, but he can’t help but feel hurt. Why hadn’t Sun told him this day was coming? Day hadn’t known, had been too preoccupied with Night and the time they shared to even speak to his father that much, in recent millennia. Now, he misses it. Now, he regrets it.

                There are quiet footsteps becoming audible, and Day knows only one being that has approached the Throne at the Crown of the World since Sun and Moon started to trust them to take care of their responsibilities independently. Automatically, Day reaches up to unclasp the Robe from where it’s bound about his neck, lets it spill haphazardly off his shoulders and onto the Eastern seat, and waits. Night’s feet come into Day’s frame of vision, but Day doesn’t move until Night’s hand rests on his shoulder. Then, he looks up at him, and notes quietly that Night’s eyes are shimmering with something like determination, laced with a sadness Sun knows too well not to recognize. Night kneels at his feet, wraps his arms around Day’s bent knees and midsection as Day leans forward into his embrace, and tells him.

                “Moon told me a long time ago, that one day would come where she and Sun would have to return to their places in the Sky. This world takes a toll on them, as it never does on us; they are creatures of Sky, and aging as we are. When they were young and we were younger, Sun and Moon stayed on this world to ensure we were safe, only venturing into the Sky during the times we did not need them. Our births were unexpected, but natural. “

                Day feels a pang of jealousy that Moon had prepared Night for this, but Sun had not done the same for him. Day starts shaking from anger, but Night’s hands wander up to his hair, cradling the back of Day’s head as Night leans their foreheads together. Night’s eyes are not open, but Day stares at them anyway. He doesn’t say anything, and Night continues.

                “They loved us, both of us. Moon wanted me to tell you that Sun misses you dearly, and that he regretted not telling you sooner. Moon said Sun knew he was selfish, wanting to keep you happy until the very last moment he couldn’t. He wanted to spare you the knowledge and pain until it had to happen. But he’ll still watch over you. As Moon will watch over me. As we will watch over each other.” Night’s voice starts to break, and Day can’t help but unfold his knees at the sound of that, drawing Night into his lap and pressing his face into Night’s chest, arms locking around Night’s waist as Night’s arms adjust to the change in height, wrapping around Day’s shoulders as Night leans his cheek against silver hair.

                Day’s hands are shaking, Night’s are not. Night presses a kiss to Day’s hair, voice a murmur.

                “I’ll never leave you again, Day. Let’s build our house here so we never have to be apart.” Day feels tears spring to his eyes at the words, laughs wetly into Night’s chest and squeezes Night like he never wants to let go. Like Night is his whole world. Night lets him, grip just as tight, one hand at the back of Day’s head.


End file.
